[ Master Post ]Title: Rhapsody in Ass Major – Chapter 264Co-Conspirator:MaverikLokiFandom: Dragon AgeCharacters: Anders ♂, Fenris ♂, Artemis Hawke ♂Rating:E (L3N4S4V0D1)Warnings: The internet is for porn, a lot of licking, Anders sandwichNotes: Anders is very good at that. And the other that. Justice is just happy because Fenris.

Fenris watched the muscles in Anders’s back, for a few seconds, somehow more subtle in their motion than Artemis’s. Perhaps the scars disrupted the patterns, but he thought that where Artemis moved like a cat, Anders moved more like a serpent, somehow, even in the smallest motions. His eyes traced the line of Anders’s spine and continued up Artemis’s body. This would be something to watch, he thought, finally getting to be this close, without the distraction of propriety or Cormac. This was, he’d thought, something Artemis only did for his brother — some exchange they had, as they both seemed to prefer the other side of things, from what Fenris had noticed. And then there were sparks on Anders’s tongue, and Fenris stopped thinking entirely.

Artemis chuckled, his thumb pressing into Anders and feeling the slick that coated his insides. "I’m not sure what you just did, Anders," he said, "but you should see the look on his face." Fenris caught Artie’s grin, ears flattening, but Artie winked. "It’s a good look. I wouldn’t mind seeing it again."

Anders smirked around Fenris and pressed his tongue flat to the underside of his knob, conjuring more sparks. Fenris’s toes curled against the rug. "V-venhedis," Fenris swore.

Artemis watched the two of them as he worked his fingers into Anders, reacquainting himself with a body he once knew by heart. He pressed a kiss to Anders’s spine. "Ready?" Anders hummed something around Fenris’s knob that sounded like agreement, and Artemis smiled. "Maker knows I am. Just watching you two…" Gently, Artemis slid his fingers free and lined himself up.

As Anders shifted, Fenris noticed that he looked simultaneously more relaxed and more intent, almost meditative. Anders’s breathing slowed, and the new rhythm changed the pattern of licks and sucks. As usual, Anders was nearly silent, and that was something Fenris had come to wonder at. Was it just with them? Was he always so self-contained? Perhaps Cormac made enough noise for both of them.

Anders’s hands moved back, from Fenris’s hips to the sleek curve of his ass. One cheek fit in each hand, almost perfectly, and it reminded Anders once again how much smaller Fenris was — not just in height, but in that he was an elf, and even as a warrior wielding an enormous sword, prone to a certain slenderness. His hands massaged the current into Fenris’s body, from behind, just as his tongue introduced it from before, and he wondered, idly, how long it would take to drive Fenris to distraction. He wondered what sounds he might suck out of the elf, with both of them sober, as he shoved himself back against Artemis, trying to keep Fenris in his mouth.

But Anders wrung a sound out of Artemis first, a low groan catching in Artie’s throat as his hips met Anders’s ass. Artie let his eyes slide shut, taking a moment just to enjoy the way Anders wrapped around him. Yes, he could see the appeal in this.

Fenris’s fingers massaged Anders’s head, but he looked up at Artemis at that sound, catching the way his eyes lidded with pleasure. "Is it worth the wait?" Fenris asked, tilting his head to direct the question at Anders but keeping his eyes on Artemis.

"Well, I wouldn’t ask him just yet," Artie huffed, circling his hips.

Anders swallowed hard, pressing his tongue up as he made a warm, quiet affirmative sound that ran right down the length of Fenris’s knob. Adjusting to Artemis’s pace, Anders squeezed him slowly with every grinding thrust, tightening and relaxing in time with the motion. He’d had better, but they were just getting started, and he’d very definitely had worse. Had Artemis taken him, that first time, he would not have been disappointed.

Fenris twitched as Anders’s finger stroked across his hole — not pressing in, but just stroking more electricity against his skin. Relaxing a bit, he found Anders looking inquisitively at him, eyes a dizzying, mottled blue and gold. His confusion must have shown, because Anders did it again. Just a single sparking tap that shot through Fenris, as if it was seeking out Anders’s tongue. At a loss for words, he nodded encouragingly. He would never have imagined this, even just a few years ago — mages pleasuring him with magic. A use for magic that he could find no harm in. He was still somewhat uncertain about Justice, but even Justice had never hurt him, even by accident. The spirit had seemed so gentle and cautious, that night at the Docks.

Artemis watched Fenris’s face, the way it twisted in surprised pleasure, and Artemis would have to ask Anders what he was doing to get that look. Steadying Anders with a hand on his hip, Artie adjusted his rhythm, his angle, watching the muscles of Anders’s back and trying to gauge what he liked. His other hand smoothed electricity into the small of Anders’s back, his sparking thumb hovering just above where they slid together.

Fenris was simple to read, the way his brows scrunched and smoothed in turns, the way his lips parted around a breathy sound, but from this angle, with his silence, Anders was a cipher. Artemis moved the hand on Anders’s back, skating it over his hip, his stomach, and Artie felt the muscles jump under his fingers as his hand slid for Anders’s groin. The flagpole was painfully hard when Artie wrapped his hand around it, and — there. Anders’s back tensed as he sucked in a breath.

Anders’s hips rolled, pushing him against Artemis’s hand, pressing down at the base of Artemis’s knob. A flicker of memory darted through the back of his head, and then another, but the one that slowed enough for him to catch was a memory of Cormac, and the corners of his mouth tipped up as best they could, with his mouth occupied as it was. His breathing settled, slow and deep, and he examined the moment, as Justice scrabbled forward, clinging to the taste of lyrium. This was good. Perhaps not what he’d meant to be doing with his evening, but surely not going to register a complaint — and no complaints from Justice, either, given the satisfied sounds echoing through his head.

Slowly realising that Artemis really didn’t seem to know what he was doing, Anders slid his lips off Fenris for a moment. "Artie? Pretend I’m Cormac, but with less pinching and bleeding."

A sound suspiciously like a laugh covered with a cough slipped out of Fenris, who was struggling not to smile, eyes still on Anders. Anders decided to help that situation and applied another jolt of electricity between the cheeks of Fenris’s ass, eliciting a surprised gasp and a ragged moan.

Artie gave Anders’s ass a teasing swat, grateful that Anders couldn’t see the embarrassment that flushed his cheeks. "That’s a dangerous request," he said, voice tightening with a snap of his hips. "Should I put rashvine nettles in your bed, too? Or carved turnips in your shoes?" Probably not the sexiest questions he could have asked, but he was used to Cormac filling Anders’s silence.

Artie obeyed Anders, however, and stopped being so careful. He thrust in hard and deep in a way that would have had Cormac shouting (he hoped) and found himself wishing that Anders would be a little less silent.

Fenris watched the motion of Artie’s hips, the determined look on Artie’s face that slowly softened back into one of pleasure. Fenris’s own pleasure coiled hot and tingling at the base of his spine, stoked by Anders’s tongue, by the jolts of electricity. Suddenly, he was grateful for the potion, knowing he wasn’t going to last like this.

Feeling the twitch against his tongue, Anders swallowed and pressed his tongue up, a low moan vibrating through the flesh he held. Justice surged forward, battering against Anders’s control, as their tongue burned faintly with the lyrium. The taste was thick in their mouth, the song of it joyous and compelling in their head. The current intensified in their hands, a definite constant tingle against Fenris’s ass. One more tap, a strong jolt that surprised a desperate sound from Fenris, and Fenris’s fingers tightened in their hair as they swallowed down his spend, supporting his trembling legs.

Perhaps surprisingly, to Fenris, Anders didn’t pull back, but lessened the intensity of his ministrations, sucking gently, licking slowly — a warm, wet caress. And Anders’s breathing deepened, a longer space between breaths, now, as Artemis slammed into him. He lifted his hips, encouragingly, before realising he’d pulled up too far, and lowered himself back to a more reasonable level.

"That’s quite a talent," Fenris remarked, breathily, as the world continued to shift and ripple in the corners of his vision, under the bottoms of his feet. He watched Anders’s face, for a moment, what of it he could see, and took in the way the blue lines flickered and darted through Anders’s pale skin. There was no beauty in this man, that he could see, but there was a certain appeal to his passion and his talent, and something about the spirit seemed to call to his very blood, which was disturbing, in its own way, but not something he meant to consider, right now, his flesh still reeling from the lips still wrapped around him.

Mouth open around pants for air, Artie kept up his unrelenting rhythm, determined to bring Anders over at least once before he gave in himself. That would be difficult if he kept watching Fenris’s face, the way he shivered, eyes dazed and dark, under Anders’s ministrations.

"He’s good at that, isn’t he?" Artie asked, parted lips quirking in a lopsided smile. "I remember." And that memory wasn’t helping him hold back either, his hips shivering. He tried to think of unsexy things. That window on the other side of the room needed cleaning, he decided. Was that a cobweb?

Artemis bent over Anders, the hand on Anders’s hip wrapping around his chest and the hand on Anders’s knob moving at a furious pace. Artie tore his attention away from the dirty window. "I remember the first time you licked me out," Artie growled behind Anders’s ear, felt a fine shiver under his hand. "The things you did with your tongue… I could have come like that, if you’d let me." And that was usually Cormac’s thing, the dirty talk. Artie was not nearly as good at it, but he knew that Anders liked it when it came from Cormac.

Anders’s body relaxed suddenly, muscles releasing, jaw locking open, breaths more like long gasps as his chest heaved. Memories of Artemis opening for him, coming for him, washed over him. He remembered that first time, when he wasn’t sure at all that what he was doing was good or right, but the way Artie looked at him, he couldn’t keep saying no. But, he put aside the booze and the complicated politics, and brought Artie through earthquake after earthquake, that night. His fingers bent back, stiffening away from Fenris’s ass, as he spilled over Artemis’s fingers, only realising afterward that he’d gotten it on the floor. Artemis’s floor.

Fenris could feel Anders panting around him, open-mouthed, tongue still caressing the knob that laid against it. As Anders’s hands flexed away from his skin and he watched the lean, scarred body before him relax, something tugged at the back of Fenris’s mind. Some dark memory, some fearsome thing. That pose, those motions weren’t as unfamiliar as they should have been, somehow, and he shivered, shoving those thoughts away, as he brushed Anders’s hair back from where it had fallen into his face.

"He makes you look good doing that," Fenris said, eyes lighting on Artemis again. "I would almost be tempted to try, one night, if I didn’t enjoy you so much in all the usual ways. Every last one of them. Perhaps especially the way you look when there are two of me."

Artemis groaned low and long at that, remembering Fenris’s wedding present and how perfect Fenris had felt, doubly perfect, filling him so thoroughly. He wondered if he should be insulted by Fenris’s choice of words, that it was Anders who made him look good, but Anders clenched around him so wonderfully that he didn’t care. "Anders," Artie sighed, his hand slick on Anders’s knob as he continued to caress it. He remembered how that knob felt inside him, and when the floor started to shake, it was to thoughts of that flagpole splitting him open.

Still caressing Anders’s hair, Fenris braced one hand on a bedpost as he watched Artemis lose his rhythm, whole body shivering and tightening, and a shaky shout spilling out over Anders’s back. Anders sighed around Fenris, eyes sliding shut. He reached one hand behind him to grab Artie’s hip and held him there, as deep as he could go.

"Maker," Artie groaned, his whole body loosening as quickly as it had tightened.

Slowly sliding his lips off Fenris, Anders tipped his head back and stretched his neck. "Five minutes for the two of you, and then we’ll move?"

Fenris leaned away, lifting himself to sit on the footboard of the bed. "Five minutes," he agreed, rolling his ankles. At least for Artemis, he’d be able to kneel.

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Ywain Penbrydd writes mountains of crappy fic. These stories are now written here, where he has the ability to filter them for suck before releasing them into the wild. Occasionally, he also makes icons, banners, and other art-garbage.

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